Rincasare
by pollenflug
Summary: Gokudera thought, back in their time everything would normalize... he was wrong. Things could indeed get worse. some 8059 on the horizon
1. prologue

Hi, it's me again. I decided to already publish my second fan fiction, although nobody has reviewed the first one yet... unfortunately.

I had the idea for this story buried somewhere in the back of my head for quite a while now. I was always wondering how things might go on after the future arc. And there is something I would really love to see happening. But I don't think it will ever happen so I am writing it down now. Some things might not be 100% according to the manga but it's not so much that I'd say it's an alternative timeline... let's call it creative freedom.

Before I forget, if you haven't read the future arc yet, this might contain some **spoilers**.

If I manage to stay creative this fic might become quite long and rather dramatic and angsty. But at this point it's still pretty general.

There is no pairing yet but there might occur some 8059/5980 in later chapters.

This is pretty much Gokudera centric, btw.

**Disclaimer: I do not own Katekyo Hitman Reborn! nor any of it's Charakters,**** they belong to Amano Akira. **

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**Rincasare**

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**prologue**

It had been one week, three days and about 30 minutes since they returned from the future. Not that anybody counted. Not Gokudera anyway. He just happened to admire the silver hands of his wrist watch quite often lately. Knowing the future doesn't exactly help you relax; or sleep for that matter. Not if the future meant being hunted by the Millefiore and having to cope with the loss of your precious boss; even if he turns out to be not as dead as you thought.

In the end everything had gone well after all. Some of them got injured rather badly but thank God nobody died. Except for that bastard Byakuran. The Tenth, of course, was willing to spare that asshole's life. He wouldn't be the Tenth if he had killed him just like that. He was far too gracious.

That was why Mukuro Rokudo (who as well wasn't as dead as they thought) decided to take on that part. He kinda was the bad guy anyhow. So when he slit Byakuran's carotid artery, creating quite a mess around him, nobody was really surprised. Well, of course all the guardians where shocked by such a cold-bloodedness, starring at Mukuro as if he were a monster; but inwardly many of them would have done the same readily.

At least Gokudera knew he would. A part of him even felt sad that he didn't have the chance. On the other hand he was the right-hand man, trusted and always loyal, never questioning the Boss's decisions. Never.

So when they returned to their original time, Mukuro ended up in jail. Again. Yamamoto, Dokuro, Sasagawa and Lal Mirch were admitted to hospital immediately. Gokudera declined more or less politely when the doctors wanted to take him too. Of course The Tenth insisted on it. Everybody should at least get checked and get some well deserved rest.

After barely two days Gokudera decided he had rested enough. How could he watch after the Boss when he was chained to some hospital bed? The future had shown them that time wasn't exactly on their side, so he decided to spend every second on protecting the Tenth, on preventing whatever mischief might threaten them from happening. To say Gokudera Hayato got a tiny bit obsessive would be an understatement.

**tbc**

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Rincasare means "coming home" in Italian(at least that's what my dictionary tells me)

**Reviews are very appreciated. I'd feel rather silly uploading stories that nobody reads.  
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	2. chapter 1: a new morning

Ok, so here is the first chapter. The next one might not come as fast. I had already written half of this when I uploaded the prologue.

Many thanks for the first review, I hope there will come more. ;)

This still might contain some **spoilers**.

**Disclaimer: I do not own Katekyo Hitman Reborn! nor any of it's Charakters,**** they belong to Amano Akira. **

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**Chapter One**

When Gokudera arrived at the Tenth's house on a morning that was so damn beautiful and sunny, that it made the unavoidable future seem like a bad dream, he couldn't help but hiss slightly to himself at such hypocrisy.

The young (mostly-)Italian was in a fairly bad mood. Not that he was particularly happy-go-lucky usually. When he got up way too early for a Sunday, still unable to let the daily routine from the future/past weeks behind, he realized something was missing; or rather he was missing something. He would never admit it towards the Tenth or anybody else and certainly not towards himself, but he missed the damn cat. It wasn't even a real cat, made of flesh and bones and real damn fluffy fur. It was just a stupid rebellious box weapon, nothing more. A box weapon that had probably left more scars on his body than all the opponents he had fought; and that courageously saved his life, risking it's own.

No, Gokudera definitely didn't miss the cat at all; especially considering it had been his recommendation to leave all the box weapons behind. They had already manipulated the timeline more than enough and their older counterparts needed them more then they did now. Still his apartment had never felt so empty.

So right now he was standing in front of the Sawada household's innocently white entrance door, deeply in thought about anything but a silly cat, when a visibly tired Tsuna aka the Tenth welcomed him.

"Ah, Gokudera-kun! I didn't hear you knocking.", the boy said, rubbing the back of his head slightly bemused.

"And still you knew I was here, the Tenth must have a second sight!", the self proclaimed right-hand man answered a little too excited.

"Well, actually I saw you through the curtains. But, um, come in!"

While Gokudera orderly placed his sneakers in the hallway, Tsuna asked yawning: "To what do I owe the honor?" Of course, thoughtful as he was, Gokudera noticed the expression of weariness. He looked at his watch to see that it was still pretty early.

"I-I'm sorry Boss, did I awake you?"

At the very moment a screaming Lambo stormed out of the open door, followed by a furious I-Pin who yelled something about the cow stealing her breakfast. The usual morning routine.

"No, not really.", Tsuna said. "So, to what do I owe the honor?", he repeated.

Gokudera seemed to feel somewhat uneasy, concentrating his attention on the wooden floor, the ceiling light and finally to the person in front of him.

"Um, in fact I am looking for my sister.", he stated, his face turning a funny shade of red, as if he had just said something unbelievably silly.

"Oh, ok. Bianchi is in the living room. I think she's tuning the piano."

"P-Piano?" Up to that moment, Gokudera thought the strangely familiar sounds he was hearing where coming from the radio.

"What the hell is that thing doing here?" He entered the living room, pointing at the dusty instrument, while leaving his precious boss behind.

"It's nice to see you too, Hayato!", his older sister answered impassive, not looking up from the black and white keys.

"I know it's nothing compared to our old grand piano, but it's space-saving and I think it has a lot of potential. All it needs is some love and ca..."

"Shut up!", Gokudera interrupted a little rudely.

"You can't just bring a fucking piano wherever you go! I'm sure the boss wouldn't like such a nuisance."

Bianchi looked up, slightly concerned. He hated it when she did that, play the caring bigger sister and all. "Since when do you call this a nuisance, Hayato? I remember you being quite attached to that instrument."

"That was long ago. Things are different now." Damn, why did he always feel the urge to justify himself? "There is neither time nor place for distractions like that!" He turned away, trying to look less like a helpless puppy. After an awkwardly long moment of silence, he decided that it was time to change the subject.

"Well, err, I didn't come to talk about pointless stuff like that." The following question had been bothering him for quite a while now and he wasn't even sure that he wanted to hear the answer.

"Before we left to fight the Millefiore you told me that you got something for me. Something from father." He hesitated.

"What is it?"

**tbc**

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Actually it's just starting to get interesting... at least I hope so.

Review please.


	3. Chapter 2: a question

Here's the second chapter. I hope you like it. I know I'm repeating myself but I would really like to get some feedback, even if you think this story is crap, every review is helpful. I need to know whether I'm writing this only for myself.

I should probably add something that I have also indicated in my profile: Although this story is set shortly after the tyl arc, the Characters are supposed to be a little older than in the original manga, they are probably around 18 or 19 years old.

This still might contain some **spoilers**.

**Disclaimer: I do not own Katekyo Hitman Reborn! nor any of it's Charakters,**** they belong to Amano Akira. **

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**Chapter two**

A nasty lump began to form in Gokudera's throat as he asked his sister the question that had occupied his mind for such a long time. Slightly surprised the beautiful woman stood up to face her brother, who was rather inefficiently trying to hide his nervousness by playing with his lighter. Besides, he still couldn't look her in the eyes without feeling a little sick.

"You mean, my older self told you that. Don't you?" That moment he realized what he had completely forgotten. How could the Bianchi from this time know what he was talking about?

"It took you quite a while.", she just commented calmly.

"You are lucky, you know?", she said, while one hand vanished somewhere in the back pocket of her trousers. "When I went to Italy the other day, father indeed gave me something important for you. My older self must have remembered that. What a pity, she spoiled the surprise."

She slowly reached out her hand to show Gokudera a somewhat crumpled envelope. "Here, it's yours."

All the silver-haired young man was able to say was: "What is it?", eyes filled with curiosity and a tiny bit of fear that he hoped she didn't recognize.

"Well, it's not a kitten, that's for sure." Bianchi turned away again, to proceed tuning the piano, a gesture that meant as much as _Go, figure it out by yourself_.

Gokudera put the envelope in his own pocket and left the room. As he slipped into his shoes, she said almost casually: "If I were you I wouldn't wait too long opening it."

That was probably the first time Gokudera left without saying good bye to the Tenth.

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He didn't know how exactly he ended up on the roof of their former school building. Neither did he know why the box of cigarettes he had just bought was already empty. "Damnit!", he cursed to himself, throwing the packet away with all his might.

"Perhaps this is a good opportunity to stop.", came in an all too familiar voice. "Smoking is bad for your health anyway."

Why did the baseball freak always have to appear in the most inconvenient moments?

"Fuck you, Yamamoto!", Gokudera snarled. Whereupon the taller man just smiled broadly as usual.

"What the heck are you doing here? You want me to get a fuckin' heart attack?"

"Sorry Gokudera, I didn't want to scare you." Ignoring the death glare coming from his friend, Yamamoto sat down beside him, well aware of the danger he put himself in.

Although the danger might not have been as high as normally in a situation like this. Somehow the rage in Gokudera's voice seemed shallow, more like an act than a real threat.

"I just visited Tsuna. It must have been shortly after you left. Or should I say _fled_?" The raven-haired man looked at his friend with curios eyes, who in exchange preferred to absentmindedly stare down at his hands . Yamamoto couldn't help but frown at the unusual sight. He didn't like that look at all.

"What is it, Gokudera?", he asked cautiously, trying not to sound pushy.

"What is what?"

_Why are you acting so strange?, _he wanted to ask. _Why do you make me so worried? _But instead he noticed the piece of paper in Gokudera's hands and asked: "What is that thing you are holding there?"

"It's an envelope, idiot."

"What's inside of it?", ok, maybe he did sound a little pushy now. But to his surprise, Gokudera didn't yell at him. He didn't even give him the evil eye, which left Yamamoto only more concerned.

"I don't know.", he stated quietly, still starring down. After a moment of silence he continued: "It's from my father."

"Oh.", Yamamoto answered. "I thought, you didn't talk to your father."

"It's a little more complicated. I haven't seen him since I was eight." Gokudera stood up, dusting his pants with his empty hand. He so hoped, the baseball idiot hadn't heard the crack in his voice.

"Screw it!", he suddenly shouted and threw the envelope away to where the empty cigarette box already rested.

**tbc**

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review please


	4. Chapter 3: more questions

So, here is finally the third chapter. Thanks for the feedback, it was really helpful. I have to say that I pretty much like this chapter and I hope you like it too.

PS: Maybe I should warn you that this chapter might be full of swearing.

**Disclaimer: I do not own Katekyo Hitman Reborn! nor any of it's Charakters,**** they belong to Amano Akira. **

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**Chapter Three**

The Storm guardian turned away from his friend, avoiding any form of eye contact. After all he knew the look Yamamoto directed at him well enough. He didn't have to see it. He leaned heavily against the tall wire-mesh fence that was surrounding them and that at times made him feel like a prisoner. His slender fingers grasped the cold steel netting in search of support.

What was it? What was it that made him feel so damn lost? That made him fall apart in front of the baseball idiot?

While Gokudera stood there, starring in disgust at the rich green trees, the cottony clouds and everything else that seemed oh so idyllic on the other side of that fence, he could hear Yamamoto approach him slowly.

"Here.", the taller man said in a gentle tone, holding the crumbled-up envelope towards Gokudera. "You lost something."

But instead of taking it the young Italian bit his lip and mumbled, still with his back to his friend: "Would you open it for me?"

"Of course.", Yamamoto answered. And after some hesitation he added: "I know what it feels like. I mean, being afraid to face something. Something you would rather, well, not face. Especially if it involves family." He felt a little awkward but at least the quintessence should have been clear.

Still his words didn't quite manage to have the effect he hoped for.

"I'm not afraid, you moron!", Gokudera snapped, turning around angrily. "Do I look like a frickin' puss...?" He couldn't help but feel something blur his vision, so he hastily turned away again.

"Just open that damn thing, will you?", he continued calmer.

"Sure." Yamamoto secretly wondered how relaxing a career as a lion tamer might be.

"It's a letter.", he finally said. When something metallic fell to the ground, he bent down to pick it up. "And a ring."

Slightly puzzled Gokudera asked: "A ring?", only to quickly grab the heavy silver piece of jewelry from the Baseball fanatic. "Let me see." It was a rather massive, solid ring. The patina indicated that it must have been older and a conspicuous signet embellished it.

"Wow, that thing looks pretty expensive.", Yamamoto noticed, leaning over the smaller man's shoulder, recklessly invading his personal space. "It kinda reminds me of our Vongola rings."

"It is actually comparable to them.", Gokudera stated.

"This ring belongs to my family or more precisely the Famiglia." He held the ring tightly, a look on his face that Yamamoto couldn't quite grasp but he could tell it was far from delight. Admittedly, all the swordsman knew at that moment was that for some bizarre reason he enjoyed the way the young silver-haired man pronounced the word _Famiglia_. Gosh, did he just lust after his best friend? Yamamoto instantly wondered if he'd go to hell for what his dirty mind was thinking.

Luckily for him, Gokudera was very much abstracted. After a short moment of silence he continued: "There are only very few rings like this one. If you get one it means you are part of the Famiglia. It means my father trusts you... and he barely trusts his own reflection in the mirror." He took a deep breath. "They don't have any superpowers though, unlike the Vongola rings." He chuckled faintly, but there was a shakiness in Gokudera's voice that no empty laugh could hide.

"What do you think that means, Gokudera?", Yamamoto asked curiously.

"I don't know.", the Italian answered. "You said there was a letter, right? Hand it over please."

This must have been the first time since the both of them met that the quick tempered, cantankerous and generally not very sociable explosives expert said _please_ to his friend.

Not that it was of any importance. And Yamamoto blushing meant just that he had a healthy blood circulation.

Gokudera took the piece of paper and read it carefully. It was strange but never before had Yamamoto felt so close to his friend, so trusted by him. It wasn't necessarily what any of them said or didn't say. It wasn't anything in particular. But for once it seemed that the solid wall the other one usually was wrapped up in began to crumble. _Finally_, Yamamoto thought, and it only took a few years and some mutual near-death experiences.

"So, what does it say?", the raven-haired man asked, when he realized that the other man had remained silent for a while now.

"It says that my father wants me back in the family."

"Oh. Hey, I guess that's good news.", Yamamoto said a little uncertain, rubbing the back of his messy head. But at least he had put on his brightest smile.

"That's no fuckin' good news!", Gokudera suddenly burst out, right in the face of his friend.

"It's no good news at all! Actually it's rather bad news!", he gesticulated heavily, as if he tried to fend off some imaginary bees. "He wants me to come back to Italy and be a part of the... of his Famiglia. Just like that!"

"Oh."

"Oh?", he seized Yamamoto by the collar. His eyes were flickering with rage and apprehension. "Oh? Is that fuckin' all you can say?". His grip loosened as he felt the last bit of self control go to hell. And in the blink of an eye all of Gokudera's strength evaporated with a puff.

"Just like that.", he repeated huskily. And before Yamamoto even got the chance to find any calming words the green-eyed man suddenly silenced him with a kiss, pressing his lips passionately against the other man's, biting him, exploring his mouth with his tongue. But after a short moment Gokudera abruptly pushed himself off.

"Fuck!", he cursed as he hastened away, leaving his friend completely and utterly confused.

**tbc**

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as always reviews are welcome and have a good weekend


	5. Chapter 4: complications

Hey, after two months I have finally managed to upload a new chapter. Sorry for letting you wait so long. I've temporarily moved to another country, which has been quite stressful.

Anyway, this chapter is not only longer but also a bit slower than the previous ones. You could say that not much happens but I think the characters as well as I myself needed this.

I hope you like it and as you know, feedback is very welcome. :)

**Disclaimer: I do not own Katekyo Hitman Reborn! nor any of it's Charakters,**** they belong to Amano Akira. **

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**Chapter Four**

_Knock knock._

Five days later. Five days avoiding any kind of eye contact, or contact in general. Five days of lying to the precious Tenth about why Yamamoto seemed so unnaturally thoughtful or why Gokudera suddenly stopped to permanently threaten the Baseball fanatic. Five marvelous days full of worries, brooding and Bach. If there was one thing that Gokudera Hayato had actually brought to perfection in his life full of endless efforts and setbacks it was undeniably the art of self doubt.

_Knock! Knock!_

Three days since he had last opened the curtains to let the light of day illuminate his way too empty apartment. Gokudera had decided that it would be the best for everybody if he strictly kept to himself for a while. Not for long, really. He didn't want the Tenth to worry. He just needed some time to figure out how to solve the unsolvable misery that was his own messed up existence. Of course he knew that at some point he would have to leave his apartment; sooner or later. Preferably later. But right now he was perfectly happy watching Jeopardy in his pyjamas, a glass of Pinot Noir in one hand, the obligatory cigarette in the other hand. Well, maybe not _perfectly_ happy. Not happy at all, strictly speaking. However, it could have been worse. He could have run out of alcohol. Or cigarettes.

_KNOCKKNOCKKNOCK!_

"For God's sake!" The explosives expert stomped to the door, after angrily stubbing out his cancer stick in the already brimful ashtray. "Who the fuckin' hell just doesn't get it that NOBODY IS HERE TO OPEN THE GODDAMN DO...?!" He abruptly cut himself short as he stood in front of a somewhat scared Tsuna.

"T-Tenth! What are you doing here?"

The young man whose hazel hair triumphantly defied the laws of physics answered slightly bewildered: "Ah-Hello Gokudera-kun! I hope I'm not coming at an inconvenient time."

"O-Of course not, Tenth! You are always welcome!" While saying that in his best apologetic tone, Gokudera made several fast bows, as if he was trying to measure the distance to the floor with his forehead.

"Please, come in!"

"Thank you, Gokudera-kun. By the way, I brought Yamamoto along." Tsuna stepped aside to reveal a rather uneasy Rain guardian. "We just run into each other and happened to have the same destination."

Gokudera frowned at the sight of the one person he really didn't want to see right now. But considering the Tenth's presence he manged to resist the urge to slam the door right into the baseball freak's naïve face.

Tsuna and Yamamoto sat down on the not very comfy sofa, both trying to breath through a thick wall of cigarette smoke, not entirely unlike sucking for fresh air on an exhaust pipe. For Yamamoto it was the first time that he entered this dangerous territory that was Gokudera's apartment and he was very much aware of that fact. He wasn't frightened or anything, just cautious. He knew that he was probably as welcome as an ingrown toenail. But he also knew that it couldn't go on like this forever. This wasn't about his best friend kissing him. It wasn't even a real kiss, more like Gokudera's unorthodox and absolutely unintentional way of coping with an extremely stressful situation or something. And it wasn't as if Yamamoto continuously thought about this incident, questioning his own feelings towards the explosives expert. No really, it wasn't. He just wanted - or rather he had - to follow his responsibilities as a fellow guardian and friend.

"So, err, how are you doing Gokudera-kun?", Tsuna suddenly asked, drawing Yamamoto's thoughts back to the present.

The Storm guarding, who sat down opposite his guests, tried his best not to look distressed or anything like someone who hasn't slept in a couple of days or weeks or years, he couldn't really remember the difference. So he smiled that special don't-worry-everything-will-be-alright smile he had reserved exclusively for the Tenth. "I'm fine, Tenth. Everything is great."

Tsuna didn't really seem convinced. He had that look on his face. The look that always gave Gokudera the feeling of being a disappointment, not at all worthy of the position as right-hand man. Anybody else would without a doubt have seen that it was just the look of someone who is worried about a friend.

"Well, if everything is so great, why are you sitting there in your pyjamas in mid afternoon? And don't get me wrong but you smell like a dead rat, Gokudera-kun." Yamamoto winced slightly at that, knowing that the young man next to him was the only person in the world who could say such thing without having to fear an immediate and unbelievably gruesome death.

"Oh." Gokudera looked away ashamed. Unworthy. Unworthy. Unworthy. The words echoed in his head like a mantra. "I'm sorry, Gokudera-kun. I know about the letter from your father. Yamamoto told me."

At that the Italian gave the baseball fanatic a deathly glare, which didn't prevent Tsuna from continuing seriously: "It's good that he told me. After all, if you leave, it will be of huge impact on the family." That wasn't really what the young man wanted to say, though. He wanted to say that he didn't want to loose his friend, that he'd miss him. But he knew that for Gokudera Hayato Famiglia always came first.

"Don't worry, Tenth. I won't leave."

"You won't?"

"Of course not!", he knelt down in front of his precious boss, sincere jade-green eyes focused on light-brown ones, searching for approval.

"Never in my life would I leave your side, Tenth. I gave a promise to protect you and I won't break that promise."

"But your father..."

"My father is a stranger to me. I barely know him nor what's going on in that twisted mind of his. All I know is that he is a control freak who would do anything to ensure nothing gets in his way.", for a moment Gokudera paused, looking down sorrowful. "Absolutely anything!"

An awkward silence filled the room, heavy and oppressive as non of them knew what to say. But they all had the same thing in mind. Only the sudden carefree vibration of Tsuna's mobile disrupted their thoughts. "Ah, excuse me.", the young man apologized, while looking for his phone. "It's Reborn." After a short talk to the Arcobaleno he turned back to his friends. "I'm sorry but I have to go now. Reborn said it's urgent." As he was getting ready to leave he added nervously: "I just hope Lambo hasn't destroyed anything."

Now only Yamamoto and Gokudera were left, both wishing they could be anywhere but in each other's company. "This is absurd!", Gokudera suddenly burst out. "We both know why you are here." The taller man looked as if he was thinking whether to hide under the cushion or grab his counterpart and confess all the things that had occupied his mind for the last couple of days. Neither option seemed very clever. The silver haired leaned back in his chair, lighting a cigarette. As indifferent as possible he added: "Don't worry, baseball freak. What happened the other day was nothing but a knee-jerk reaction. I was upset and needed an outlet. You just happened to be there. That's all. No need to make a fuss!"

"Do you really think that, Gokudera?" For the first time that afternoon Yamamoto opened his mouth. And he didn't intent to shut it so soon. He had finally found the determination to admit what he himself hadn't even realized until lately. "It didn't mean anything to you? Then tell me, why did you do it? You could have blown me to pieces instead. Isn't that your usual way of dealing with things?"

"What the hell do you care?" Gokudera's voice may have been angry but his eyes were tired and Yamamoto sensed a hint of fear in them. _Fear of what?_, he wondered.

"I care because you are my friend! I care because you don't! I care because I love you."

There it was again, this unbearable silence, only this time it was Gokudera's phone that broke it. He picked it up hastily, starring at Yamamoto in blank astonishment before his lips could even form a simple "Hello".

After a while he hung up and turned to the rain guardian: "I have to go."

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tbc


	6. Chapter 5: missing

Hi, I'm sorry this time it took me even longer to upload a new chapter. I moved again (two times). But hopefully there will be more time for writing now.

Thanks a lot for the reviews, they are very helpful.

**Disclaimer: I do not own Katekyo Hitman Reborn! nor any of it's Charakters,**** they belong to Amano Akira. **

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**Chapter Five**

"W-wait!", Yamamoto burst out. He grabbed the other men's wrist, his mind spinning in agitation, confused by his own words. Did he really just confess to his best friend? What if he ruined everything? What if he risked that fragile bond they had – that bond the other man didn't even acknowledge was there – by having declared those careless words? Did he make a mistake?

"Wait Gokudera, please! I..."

"Don't!", the young Italian interrupted, freeing his arm of the grip. "I don't wanna hear it! I don't care what you have to say." He straightened himself so that for once he was the one towering above the other. Anger, worry, insecurity all carefully hidden behind a parchment thin layer of control and smoke. "Listen, I'm going to get dressed now. When I'm back I want you to be gone." With these words he went into the bathroom, not looking back at the man he left behind; hoping the other hasn't noticed that darn faint blush that always managed to sneak onto his cheeks in the most awkward moments.

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Resting on his bed, surrounded by posters of his favorite baseball stars, his own bat leaning untouched in the corner, Yamamoto wondered if he really was a baseball idiot. He hadn't played for a while, though. How long has it been? Since that whole Millefiore mess started, since they went to that future he never wanted to experience.

It was back then that he realized this wasn't a game at all. The responsibilities burdened on shoulders way too young to carry them, the seriousness in everybody's eyes, his father's gruesome death. No, this really wasn't a game. Far from it.

He wondered at what point the carefree kid he used to be had turned into a hitman. He wondered if he'd ever be able to actually kill someone. He wondered how Gokudera had managed to grow up in a world like that, ruled by deceptions, mistrust and blood. Damnit, why did his thoughts always return to that guy?

Just when he decided a nice cold shower might clear his head, somebody knocked at the door.

"Dad hey, what is it?"

"Takeshi, Your little Italian friend is here.", Yamamoto Tsuyoshi said in a slightly bewildered tone, almost whispering he added: "I think he's a bit drunk."

"Mm not drunk!", a mildly slurred yell came from downstairs. "And I'm not little!"

"Ok, thanks dad, I'll take care of him." Rubbing the back of his head, as he always did when he was thinking or nervous or anything, Yamamoto went to greet his not really sober sounding friend.

Said friend leaned heavily against the door frame, trying to figure out why the floor wouldn't stop spinning. "Oi, Gokudera, what happened?", Yamamoto asked curiously.

"Nothin, 'cept that I'll fly to Italy tomorrow."

"You do _what_?"

At that the silver haired man spontaneously emptied his entire stomach contents on the doormat before almost passing out into the other man's arms, thanks to the swordsman's excellent reflexes.

"I better get you upstairs, before my dad decides to kick you out for ruining his interior with your interior, haha."

Yamamoto cautiously carried Gokudera into his room and placed him on his bed. He was rather surprised at the lack of resistance the usually fiery storm guardian offered. He had honestly never seen him that drunk. On second thought he had never seen him drunk at all. Sure the Italian had the habit to easily lose his temper but it always seemed important to him to retain a certain degree of control, especially in difficult situations.

"Wait here. I'm gonna get you some water.", Yamamoto said calming, when suddenly pale, slender fingers grabbed his sleeve.

"Don't! Just stay here, ok?" Gokudera's eyes were glazed and pleading, his voice low and raspy. He struggled to sit upright but managed to hold onto the other man's arm.

"Bianchi is missing, you know?"

"What are you talking about?", the taller man asked startled.

"I just couldn't – I couldn't go back to Italy and act as if nothing happened.", Gokudera paused, looking at his counterpart seriously, not unlike someone who was just going to confess a sin. "I-I couldn't face _him_."

Something about the shaky figure next to him reminded Yamamoto of a lost little boy; almost too frail to be a feared hitman; too frail for someone so reckless. Was that really the loud, quarrelsome guy he knew as Gokudera Hayato? The same guy that didn't hesitate to shove dynamite up anyone's ass who even looked at his boss in the wrong way – which to the bomber was pretty much every way?

Of course Yamamoto knew all along that there was more to the man than meets the eye. There was a side to him he only showed when he thought nobody noticed, a tender side; like when he fed Uri his storm flames or when he sat in the library listening to music with his headphones on because nobody else entered that room anyway. And there was the way he watched Tsuna, caring, loving even.

Yamamoto wondered how it would feel to be watched like that for once, when he caught himself watching his friend in exactly the same way.

"Face whom?", he asked when he realized he had been a little absent minded.

"My father of course, baseball idiot!", Gokudera looked at him slightly annoyed about the lack of attention but continued anyway: "I couldn't face him after I run away from the mansion; after what he did to...", he paused again, not suspecting Yamamoto to know about his mother. "...doesn't matter. So I asked my sister to go instead of me and tell him to stick his friggin' ring where the sun doesn't shine. Only that Bianchi apparently never arrived there." He fell silent for a moment, running his fingers nervously through his messy silver hair. He was really in need of a smoke now, despite feeling more and more tired.

"What if – what if something happened to her? What if...?"

Yamamoto had never thought that Gokudera actually cared that much for his sister, considering the fact he avoided her company whenever possible. "Don't even think that, Gokudera. Maybe she's just..."

"She's not just late, Yamamoto! Reborn got a call from my father who told him that she phoned him shortly after the plane's arrival in Palermo. A car was supposed to pick her up at the airport but she didn't show up. That's not like her." Slowly Gokudera lay down, trying to silence the penetrating buzzing in his head. Gosh, since when did his eyelids feel so damn heavy?

"After all, she is the _good_ child; his reliable, promising little princess. Fuck!" He closed his eyes to relax them for a second. Just a short moment. He wouldn't ever fall asleep on the baseball idiot's bed.

"I'm leaving tomorrow morning.", he mumbled, so low Yamamoto almost didn't hear it.

"Is that why you're here; to say goodbye?" When he got no answer the raven-haired man turned to face his friend who seemed to have finally fallen asleep. He covered him with the blanket and whispered: "Don't worry, Hayato. Everything is going to be ok."

**tbc**

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Well, that was a fluffy last sentence. I originally wanted this chapter to go in a rather different (less fluffy) direction but it turned out like this and I gotta say I like it. I kind of like writing Yamamoto (to my own surprise). What do you think? Should I continue like that or is my style getting boring? Do you like all the dialogues or is it finally time for some action? Your opinion on this is important to me.


	7. Chapter 6: arrival

Hello there. It has been a looong time - a whole year to be exact - since I submitted the last chapter to this story. What should I say, I've been really busy, still am. But every now and then I take a look at this little fic and get the urge to continue it. Well, I finally got some free time so here is the new chapter. I hope there is still somebody out there who remembers it and is interested to know how it'll go on.

Btw, a lot has happened in the Manga in the meantime. (SPOILER if you haven't read the latest couple of chapters... which I doubt) For now let's just pretend Bianchi never told Gokudera about the true story of his parents. Also the whole Shimon-arc didn't happen either, ok? So this is rather AU, I guess.

I just hope the next chapter won't take another year to finish, but I have already started writing it so I don't think it will take that long.

**Disclaimer: I do not own Katekyo Hitman Reborn! nor any of it's Charakters,**** they belong to Amano Akira.  
**

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**Chapter Six**

When he awoke the next day to the cheerful sound of his alarm clock, after a far from comfortable night on his desk chair, the keyboard's imprint embellishing his cheek, Yamamoto was surprised to find out that his guest had apparently already left. The bed had been tidily made which let him wonder if he'd actually slept that deeply. So much for his plans to gently wake his groggy friend up in the morning and... well, he hadn't really planned any further. He just knew that he couldn't simply let him go. He couldn't. Because. Because... there was a reasonable explanation; it just escaped his mind for a second.

Rubbing the grit out of his eyes with one hand, massaging his aching back with the other he looked around in his room for any sign of life Gokudera might have left. And there he found it in the form of a small yellow post-it note, leaning against a signed picture of Hideki Matsui on his nightstand.

_Sorry for your doormat._

_thanks_

_G._

That was all. Incredulously Yamamoto turned the defenseless piece of paper over and over again a couple of times. That couldn't be it! Or could it? A little lost the swordsman sat down on the edge of his bed, thinking about what he was supposed to do now. In all honesty, he wasn't usually the one to offer a nifty tactic in this kind of tricky situations. Gokudera was. Which made the whole business even more frustrating.

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A couple of hours later in Sicily a young not quite European looking man with strange silver hair was about to leave the airport, wondering why in-flight movies always had to be so goddamn boring. The fact that he still had a bit of a hangover didn't really help to raise his spirits. On the other hand nothing would have.

"Home, sweet home.", Gokudera said sarcastically to himself, when he stepped outside rather hesitantly to be welcomed by the bright Italian sun.

It had been a long time.

Not that he'd missed it, this city, the language, the way the air smelled. The rejection. The loneliness. Gosh! He had barely arrived and already wanted to puke. Or maybe it was just his stomach's sweet reminiscence of what had happened the day before. Whatever that was. All he remembered was a lot of sake – and he didn't even like that stuff – and crushing on Yamamoto's bed. _Wait, Yamamoto's bed? _Suddenly his stomach decided to feel even more twisted than before. He hadn't done anything stupid, had he? _Nonono_, he wouldn't. Ever! Damnit, where was the coffee when you needed one?

Right on cue a gloved hand appeared in front of Gokudera's face, offering an invitingly steaming styrofoam cup. The bomber however was far too busy being freaked to register his wish coming true.

"WHAT THE HECK... FUCK... WHAT'S WRONG WITH YOU MAN?", he screamed in his accustomed endearing tone, almost tossing dynamite at the attacker (if he hadn't left it hidden in one of his suitcases).

The other man, slim in physique, black suit, white shirt and gloves, overall looking suspiciously like a chauffeur, answered rather scared: "G-Gokudera Hayato?"

"Who wants to know?"

"Sir, my name is Alessandro, I'm your chauffeur. Your father assigned me to take you to the mansion.", unsure he added: "I-if it's convenient, that is."

"How do you know that it's me?", Gokudera questioned. After all, you never knew who you could trust these days.

"Well Sir, he told me you'd have uncommon grayish hair and would probably threaten me with explosives if I wasn't careful. That's why I brought coffee, to welcome you back home... it obviously didn't work, haha.", Alessandro's face turned into a sheepish smile.

At that Gokudera couldn't help but frown.

"Hell, why is it I'm always attracting idiots? Must be my scent or something.", he said more to himself than to the other man, sniffing briefly at his shirt.

Still grumbling he allowed the guy to lead him to the anything but inconspicuous black sedan.

"Grayish, pft!"

"Pardon, Sir?", Alessandro asked.

"Nothing. And stop with that _Sir_ crap! It makes me feel like an old geezer."

"Ok, Si... Mr. Gokudera."

Roughly 15 minutes later, they were driving along the coastline of the beautiful Tyrrhenian Sea. The salty air and occasional mew of the seagulls finally managed to create a feeling of homecoming Gokudera couldn't deny.

The comfortable silence was rudely broken though, when Alessandro decided practicing small talk with his sinister looking co driver would be a good idea.

"So, Mr. Gokudera, how does it feel to come back home after such a long time?"

"Peachy.", was all he got as an answer.

"Your father has told us so much about you."

"That's rather doubtful, isn't it?", Gokudera tried his best to get across his absolute disinterest in this kind of conversation. Unfortunately the driver really seemed to be the idiot he thought, because he just wouldn't stop talking.

"So, err, Japan."

"Was that a statement or a question?"

"A question?", Alessandro guessed confused.

"Baka!", was the only logical reaction.

The chauffeur's eyes widened with fascination, while Gokudera's narrowed dangerously. Everybody else would have realized by now that their dialogue partner would rather die than keep on chatting; not Alessandro though. "Uh oh, that was Japanese, wasn't it? I've always wanted to learn Japanese since I've seen Rumble in the Bronx, you know? Bruce Lee is the best!"

At that the silver haired man on the back seat finally lost it.

"First of all, Bruce Lee _was not_ in Rumble in the Bronx, he was long long dead when they shot it. Jackie Chan was. Secondly, Jackie Chan is not Japanese. Thirdly, when you drive a car, you should keep your eyes on the road, at least every now and then. And last but not least, who the hell sent you?"

"Wh-what do you mean, who sent me?"

"STOP BULLSHITTING ME, DAMNIT! Stop the car!" The driver did as he was told when he brought the sedan to a standstill at the roadside, startled by the sudden turn of events.

"Listen Sir, I-I don't know what you are talking about. Your father asked me to..."

"My father never asks anybody. He orders!", Gokudera replied annoyed, before he grabbed Alessandro by the collar.

Said young man became visibly uneasy, which was kind of understandable, considering the circumstances he found himself stuck in.

"Please Sir, let me show you. I got a letter in my p-pocket signed by your father. L-let me just..."

What happened next was so predictable, it was ridiculous. Almost.

Of course it wasn't a letter Alessandro got in his pocket, but rather a shiny Colt M1911, now directed straight at Gokudera's crotch.

_Reflexes are overrated anyway_, the Storm Guardian thought, while he slapped himself mentally.

The driver meanwhile turned his head up to face his opponent, a nasty grin forming on his lips.

At that moment Gokudera began to appreciate the sheepish smiles he used to doom so far. Naturally he wouldn't ever let Yamamoto know that.

"A Colt, Really?", he remarked in disbelief. "Isn't that a bit old fashioned?"

"Shut up, it's a classic!", came the harsh answer.

"Now tell me, SIR! How did you figure it out?"

"Didn't you tell me to shut up?"This game was almost entertaining, if their wasn't that gun pointed at his testicles.

"Yeah, but you wouldn't anyway. So enlighten me!"

Gokudera smirked nonchalant. "Well, you didn't honestly think, I'd come unprepared, did you? I knew from the start that you weren't sent by my father, your suit is way to expensive for a simple chauffeur, besides...", he leaned forward to whisper the following words as if to reveal a well guarded secret. "Never let the guy you're threatening come so close he can give you a head butt."

No sooner said than done, next thing both men somehow managed to roll out of the car; Alessandro kneeling on the ground, holding his aching forehead with one hand, clutching the gun with the other one. Gokudera crouching opposite him, wiping some blood from his nose. _Must have miscalculated something there, _he thought.

"Ha, you're bleeding, asshole!", the chauffeur/assassin sneered in triumph.

"It's _Sir_ for you!.", the other responded more than slightly pissed by now.

"So, I heard you're good at mid-range combat, Smoking Bomb. A pity, this isn't applicable." Alessandro straightened himself cautiously, the Colt pointed at his counterpart again.

"I guess it's time to say goodnight, unless you got any more cards up your sleeve."

"Now that you mention it...", the explosives expert countered. And in a split second a tiny stick of dynamite appeared seemingly out of nowhere just to explode directly between the both of them.

When the smoke screen lifted both mafiosi coughed and struggled to stand upright, only that now Gokudera was the one holding the gun.

"Surprise!", he shouted, voice raspy but proud.

"W-where did you hide _that_?"

"Oh, it wouldn't be a secret if I told you, would it?" He pressed the weapon against Alessandro's already bruised forehead. "Now tell me, what happened to my sister?"

"I won't say a word, even if you torture me!" There was that nasty grin again. "But I heard that it was lotsa fun, breaking her."

Gokudera's eyes darkened.

"Wrong answer!"

Alessandro's body sank to the floor with a thud; his crimson blood sprinkled over the green grass, resembling an abstract painting.

Gokudera just watched motionless for a second. With his empty hand he wiped over his face. There was blood on his fingers, probably his own, probably not. He didn't really care.

"Fuck.", he said exhausted to himself.

**tbc**

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I hope reading this chapter was as entertaining for you as writing it was for me. Feedback is always welcome. :)


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